


Fold

by foggynite



Category: Suikoden III
Genre: M/M, Secret Relationship, Spoilers, Unhealthy Relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-17
Updated: 2021-03-16
Packaged: 2021-03-25 14:41:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,175
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30090681
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/foggynite/pseuds/foggynite
Summary: Percy folds, slowly. Inevitably.
Relationships: Percival Fraulein/Borus Redrum





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Originally written 2/10/03.

Percy folds, slowly. Inevitably.

He stays because Borus asks him to in a soft voice that one never hears from the brash knight. Whispers in his ear as Percy helps his drunken comrade to bed, and Percy doesn’t know how to respond. His calloused palms snag the satin of the other man’s dress shirt and he marvels at the heat beneath his fingertips.

Drunken revelry in the tavern but frighteningly sober eyes staring up at him, pale cheeks flushed but not from Chisha wine. So easy for Percy to close his mouth, afraid to speak, and… nod. Just a simple bob of his head, his acquiescence, and there is no need for further decision-making.

Borus has always taken what he wanted, and taking Percy is no different. Afterwards, the blonde knight pushes him away with a sleepy command to blow out the oil lamp before he leaves. Percy goes, because there is no reason for him to stay.

And the next night Borus lightly touches the inside of Percy’s wrist at dinner, under the table where no one will see. Percy ignores the touch and soon the warmth is gone. Borus continues on with his meal, never breaks stride in his conversation. As the men head back to the barracks, and the six knights go their separate ways, Borus flirts with the table maids. Percy returns to his room alone and tries not to imagine what the blonde knight is doing.

He folds when Chris orders him and Leo to stay behind, to defend the Brass Castle. He says nothing because Borus is looking at her with bright, worshiping eyes, and obviously wants to go so very much. They are all drawn to her, the Silver Maiden, because she is harsh and gentle and beautiful and ugly and doesn’t want them to look upon her. Borus’ infatuation is one Percy could easily fall into himself, but he has his own fascination and doesn’t understand why.

So instead, Percy nods and jokes about Salome and Borus not letting him come, and watches them ride off while Leo complains about breakfast. Catches Salome looking back at him once, aged eyes wise, and knows he understands. Knows he knows, because only those who don’t know would believe the teasing.

He folds when Borus says, “It’s such a deplorable place. Nothing but mud and indecency.”

A decent place really, with nice people, but Borus could never see beyond the fancy papered walls of his youth, and Percy only had rough planks that the wind would blow through. It is a muddy place, although its inhabitants are cleaner than the bloated rich of Vinay will ever be.

But Percy looks apologetic and says nothing, because Borus would question his loyalty to Vinay if Percy defended his home village, and Borus must never know where Percy was born. Must never know because then he might never touch Percy again, and he barely touches him now.

And part of Percy regrets pulling away from his touch, can still feel his fingertips on his wrist, and he wishes things might be different. But Borus treats him the same as always, and Salome looks at him with understanding and perhaps pity, and Lady Chris grows farther from her beliefs than anyone could predict.

So he says nothing, and his spine feels as though it were twisting, folding slowly toward the ground, with the weight of his silence.


	2. Silence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Borus POV: And if he stops listening, you’re afraid you’ll have no voice at all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally written 5/12/03.

It’s hard to find the words some days. Hard to open your mouth and speak and be heard and know that the right thing will come out. Sometimes, you just smile and hope no one notices how awkward you’re feeling.

Percy is … not awkward. He is vibrant and commands attention. He wears his skin with ease. People flock to him and praise him, and he accepts it all with a natural grace you do not possess. He presents a congenial façade that relieves the tension in any situation while still being serious. You admire him for that.

But then he directs his teasing tendencies at you, and you think that maybe it would be better if Percy didn’t speak at all.

Yet as angry and flustered as you get around him, you’re still drawn back. You find excuses to ride next to him, to room with him, to sit near him at the dinner table. You tell yourself it’s because you want to learn his secret for dealing with the world, because you’re not so sure you’re dealing that well yourself.

And if he notices your affinity, he does not mention it. You don’t know what you would say if he did. Instead, he just accepts it as fact that Leo is his working partner and that you will be there the rest of the time. At least, you hope he does because he always makes sure the space next to him is open for you to take. He’s always willing to pit his war charger against yours, and to irritate the hell out of you. And he’s always willing to ride quietly at your side when you’re hurt.

His laughter is misleading, though. When you first met him, you thought him a fool, a jester who knew how to wield a sword and follow orders, and nothing more. But he’s far more intelligent than he reveals, and many of your foes have paid the price for underestimating him. He uses the laughter as a shield and a weapon, and he does not discriminate when he is angry.

Some days you forget how sharp his tongue is, how quick his mind. Those are the bad days where the right words won’t come and you just say whatever you can think of first, any words to get a reaction no matter how untrue they might be. And you wound him with your thoughtlessness, but he just grins and belittles you, usually in very public places.

Even then, you still ride next to him in formation, still sit beside him at the fire. It doesn’t occur to you not to. You sit next to him, but you don’t speak, and he lets the silence sit between you. But you’re never the first to break it, because a man has nothing if he loses his pride, and a nobleman does not concede his errors.

Besides, you don’t know what to say. It all comes out wrong.

So you wait for the silence to become too much for him to bear. Wait for him to murmur a comment on the weather or offer a whetstone as you sit around the fires. Wait for him to speak, and then smile back, welcoming the relief of tension in your chest. Because you are afraid that one day the silence will stretch on, crawl towards sunset and sunrise and through the next day, until it is set in stone between you. A solid wall you cannot surmount, and then your words will mean nothing anyway, because he will have stopped listening.

And if he stops listening, you’re afraid you’ll have no voice at all.

**Author's Note:**

> Tumblr


End file.
